She looked forward, and, seeing him in fancy grow up and play his diverse part on the world's theatre, caught in her breath and lifted up her courage with a lively effort.

It was only with the child that she forgot herself and was at moments natural; yet it was only with the child that she had conceived and managed to pursue a scheme of conduct.

Archie was to be a great man and a good; a minister if possible, a saint for certain.

She tried to engage his mind upon her favourite books, Rutherford's _Letters_, Scougalls _Grace Abounding_, and the like.

It was a common practice of hers (and strange to remember now) that she would carry the child to the Deil's Hags, sit with him on the Praying Weaver's stone, and talk of the Covenanters till their tears ran down.